Your Hands Restored Me
by tatp
Summary: Still Star-Crossed. Livia tends to Count Paris. A surprising conversation ensues. Thanks to @adorkableme525 for your valuable input.


Feather light, yet sure. That is how the hands that moved over his fevered skin felt. Not like the fearful and agitated touch he had received earlier. This touch was different. It felt like the person who gave it cared. It felt like they worried, like they had a stake in his recovery.

Livia was worried. Count Paris had tolerated the treatment she had rendered,but he had yet to awaken. His skin was no long ashen, but he was feverish, and restless. She dabbed cool water across his forhead and chest, and waited. She repeated the process, hoping his fever would break.

He knew he wanted to speak. He wanted to stand, but the pain in his body would not allow such movement. He felt thirsty, parched, as if he had been riding at full gallop across the plains for days. Upon attempting to clear his throat, he began to cough violently. This triggered pain of such magnitude, his breath was stolen from his body.

Then, he felt the hands. They were strong, yet gentle, propping his head up and holding a goblet to his lips. "Please my lord, drink." He took a long sip, seeking to quell the fiery feeling in his throat. "Slowly, my lord." the voice said. He did as bade, then leaned against the arm of the person holding onto him.

The hands helped him lay back in the bed, propping up the pillows and settling him so as to make him comfortable. "Rest, my lord."

"Please, my lady. I must know who this kindly patroness who has tended to me so thoughtfully and carefully is."

"My lord. I am no lady. Just a maid of this household. I am called Livia, my lord." At this point, Livia was still behind him, so he was unable to see her face.

"I care not your station. I care only to thank the woman who saved my life. Please. Make yourself known to me." Paris attempted to turn in the direction of the voice, pulling at his wound and causing him to hiss.

"Please my lord. Your wound. Please lie still." the voice implored him.

"I shall not. I will risk aggravating this infernal wound if it means I may look upon your face to thank you properly."

He heard movement behind him, and waited for the mystery of the kind woman to unravel. However, he was unprepared for what he saw. She was lovely. Wide, expressive dark eyes, thick, dark hair twisted and pulled off of her face. Her cheekbones high, her brow smooth, and a graceful neck. And her skin. The color of umber, unblemished and glowing. Though she was dressed in a simple frock, she needed no adornment.

She curtsied, and stood in front of him almost defiantly. She did not avert her gaze, rather she looked upon him and appeared to be waiting.

"Kind lady. Will you sit with me awhile?"

"My lord..."

"You may call me Paris. We are much past niceties and station. You saved my life. That is enough to put us on friendlier terms, yes? Please. You are to watch over me while I heal. Is that not what you have been instructed to do?"

She nodded, uncertain.

His hand patted the bed, inviting her to sit. She did, however, she took up the cool towel from the basin, and once again wiped across his brow. He reached up and took hold of her hands, stopping her movement. She looked down into his face, and her breath hitched, As did his.

"Thank you, sweet Livia. You have been nothing but kind and gentle to a complete stranger. I literally owe you my life."

"You are most welcome, my.. Paris. 'Tis nothing anyone else would have done." She looked down at his hands, and his thumbs were rubbing across her knuckles.

"Does it bother you?" He asked, nodding towards their hands. "I do not wish to bring you discomfort."

"I think it probably should, but, no. It does not."she looked at him and he returned her gaze. "What is it?"

"Forgive me. I am forgetting my manners. It is not polite to stare. But I am unable to stop myself. You are lovely."

The expression that passed across her face could best be described as pained. "Do not feel you must say these things because of the service I provided. It was my duty, sir. But saying things that are untrue...it is beneath you, sir. Such words do me no kindness." She attempted to stand, and he grasped her wrist. But the pressure cause him to pull at the wound, and he gasped in pain.

Once again, Livia pressed him back into the softness of the bed. She quickly checked the bandage for bleeding.

Through gritted teeth, Count Paris once again stopped her movements. "You do yourself a disservice. I was at the door of death. There is no reason for me to say anything but the truth. Those who know of me, know I do not lie. And you can be certain, though you have saved me, I have no need to sweet talk you. If it was thanks, monetary compensation would be enough."

As she was leaning over him, his face was very near to hers. She looked into his eyes. They were endlessly green, intelligent, humorous, and honest. He was telling the truth. Had he been lying, in his weakened state, he would have been unable to hold her gaze. But he did.

She looked away, cleared her throat. "I am sorry. I did not mean to say you spoke untrue. It is just...I am not the choice for men. They find my sister smarter, prettier. I rarely appear in their field of vision. Unless it is to ask after Rosaline."

"I have no need of her. And those men must be blind. Understand. I am not trying to bend you to my will. Nor have I desire to try to force myself into your affections. I just...want you to know, you have affected me. Promise me, you will return daily to keep me sane and happy."He raised his hand and traced her cheekbone.

Livid turned her head, making the touch linger. "If that is what you wish, I would be pleased to do so. I fear tomorrow you may be of a different mind, once your fever has broken."

At this Paris laughed, causing another bout of discomfort. Livia once again leaned over him, and as she straightened, he turned his head and caught her mouth in a soft kiss. "Hush now. This is real, no fever dream. I will be bold and tell you, were I capable of anymore, your virtue would be in danger. Fate brought me to your door. I would be a fool to disregard what has been so graciously provided. As would you."

"No fool am I . If you feel that I am what you wish to pursue, I would not say no. I shall stay until you sleep, then I will return on the morrow."

Paris took her hand in his and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "Thank you, sweet Livia. Your charity knows no bounds. And I am all the better for it." And with that, he closed his eyes, thoughts of this beautiful woman escorting him into his dreams.


End file.
